our roads to run about
by forthecoast
Summary: After Jane misses a formal CBI event, he has to apologize to Lisbon. Future fic.


**Title:** our roads to run about  
><strong>Rating:<strong> M  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Not it.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Vague for S4. Future established relationship.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> After Jane misses a formal CBI event, he has to apologize to Lisbon.  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Written for Porn Battle XIII on Livejournal. This is just a little bit of fun while I try to get over my writers block on my other stories. I hope you enjoy!

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"You're getting home late."

Lisbon looked up, startled at sight of Jane on her front porch, perched casually on the top step. Her surprise lasted only a few seconds, however, before annoyance and irritation set in; it had only been that afternoon that they'd turned heads in the bullpen as what began as a casual back and forth turned into a heated argument.

As she reached the front steps, she shrugged casually and pulled her keys out of her clutch purse. "So what if I am?" she said, her tone short and even, although somehow not quite as unaffected as she would have liked.

She kept her head held high but glared at him as she passed. He stood up and hovered behind her, not in the least bit fazed by her prickly demeanor. He had expected as much.

In fact, he would have been disappointed otherwise. He had a whole apology planned out, and it would be a shame to waste it.

"The invitation said 10:00," he pressed on, casually leaning over her shoulder as she turned the key in the lock. She refused to acknowledge him, but she made no protest as he followed her inside. It was a start.

Lisbon heaved an exasperated sigh as she flicked on the lights and dropped her keys and clutch on her front table. It was then that he got his first good look at her dress. It was a simple black halter dress that fell just above her knees; not flashy, just quietly elegant. Not entirely unlike its owner.

Jane felt his mouth go dry almost instantly.

"Wow," he managed, giving a low whistle when she finally turned around to look at him. The glower that framed her face did nothing to detract from the overall effect; rather, it enhanced it. After everything they'd been through, the fire in her eyes had been his downfall on more than one occasion.

For all of his showmanship, he didn't mind losing as long as it was to her.

"Wow," he repeated, recovering. "You look lovely tonight."

Her expression remained cool and unchanged. "How long have you been waiting out there?" she redirected, narrowing her eyes pointedly. "You could've used your key," she added.

_Or picked the lock if you felt like doing that instead, _he could hear her add silently. The truth was simple enough: they had only been together for five months, and though he'd had a spare key since even before then, he had never felt comfortable using it without her express permission. What they had was good and he wanted it to last; he didn't want to spook her.

"Not long," he lied, feeling suddenly constricted by his suit jacket. He removed the offending garment and folded it carefully, placing it on the front table right alongside her keys and purse.

Finally her resolve started to crack, if only briefly, and she quirked a skeptical eyebrow in his direction. "Long enough, apparently," she quipped. "We found the hors d'oeuvres somewhat lacking, so we went out for burgers afterwards."

That got his attention quickly. "Oh. We?" he prompted. "The team?"

"The team," she confirmed, exhaling as she drew out a long pause before adding, "and Wainwright."

"Are you sure he's allowed to stay out this late?" Jane teased. "It is a school night, after all."

He grinned at the telltale blush that rose on her cheeks, visible even in the dim lighting in the foyer of her apartment.

"Oh, hush you," she grumbled, playing it off with a roll of her eyes. She leaned down to unstrap her shoes, and he stepped forward just in time to steady her when she lost her balance. Finally kicking off her shoes, she sighed in satisfaction and, temporarily forgetting that she was still peeved at him, did not push him away.

"He has a crush on you, you know," Jane added helpfully.

Lisbon scoffed at this. "I'm sure you're wrong," she said decisively, before leading him into the kitchen to put on the tea kettle. Over her shoulder, she muttered, almost more to herself than to him, "Agent Wainwright is a professional. He would never support such nonsense."

"It's not nonsense," Jane argued, rifling through her cabinets to find where she moved his teacups. "He's had a crush on you since he came to the CBI. But you're right that he would never do anything about it," Jane added, running one hand along her lower back, "he knows you're spoken for."

She turned to glare at him. "Spoken for? After this afternoon, I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"You know I don't do CBI events. That's part of the benefit of being a consultant. It's why they don't give me dental."

Lisbon shook her head and turned back to the tea kettle. "You've done plenty of CBI events before. I don't know what it was about this one, but you should have told me before 4:00 this afternoon. I had to cover for you with the AG."

Unfortunately for him, Lisbon's point was both entirely logical and completely valid, not that he would ever let that deter him. "Something came up suddenly," he brushed off her argument casually.

"You mean Cho warned you that Ardiles was going to be there?" She took his silence at this as confirmation. "That bastard! I should have known."

"Go easy on Cho," Jane insisted. "It's not his fault."

Lisbon poured the tea, adding the milk first without him even having to remind her. "The hell it isn't," she muttered under her breath.

Running his hand along her back once more, he reached around to grip her hip possessively. _"Teresa,"_he pleaded suddenly; the use of her given name got her attention immediately. "I'm sorry about tonight and the AG. I'll make it up to you."

"Oh, I know you will." She smirked triumphantly at his apology. "Now, see. Was that so hard?"

_The little minx, _he thought to himself, the grip of his hand tightening as his fingers pressed into her hip, and there was nothing else for him to do but kiss her.

So he did.

She twisted herself in his arms, her lips opening to him as his tongue demanded entrance, but she was the one who was forceful. Her hands threaded around his neck, holding him in place, and he could still sense the faint lingering taste of champagne in her mouth.

He trailed his lips along her jawline and to her ear. "When did you get to be such a good actress?" he whispered suggestively, pleased at the anticipatory shiver he elicited in response.

"I learned from the best," she said, her reply punctuated by a sudden gasp as he took her earlobe between his teeth, tugging gently.

The anticipation that he has been keeping at bay since he first caught sight of her in that dress suddenly threatened to overtake him, and he willed himself to keep his control, thankful for the ability to apply biofeedback mechanisms to any situation at any time.

"The best, eh?" Despite his best efforts to seem unaffected (or at least _less_ affected), his voice came in a low growl. "I can't argue with that."

Lisbon scowled at this, giving him an emphatic whack on the shoulder. "Jane," she murmured, unable to disguise her moan as his lips found the hollow of her throat.

"Yes, dear?" he asked innocently, enjoying the additional flush of color to her cheeks.

"Shut up, please."

"Gladly," he answered, just before his lips returned to hers.

His hands traced the outline of her breasts through the thin fabric of her dress, and her back arched into him in response. One hand reached behind her to undo the tie that kept her dress in place, tugging gently at the knot until it gave way. It didn't take much effort on his part to divest her of the garment completely, revealing her as a vision of pale skin and red lace.

When she reached for the buttons on his vest to do the same for him, he shook his head and stilled her hand. A silent 'not yet' passed between them as he returned his attentions to her breasts. Her nipples were already hard, and he couldn't resist circling one with his tongue while lightly brushing the other with the tips of his fingers. With a breathless sigh, she fell back against the kitchen counter for support.

Jane continued to distract her with his tongue and lips on her breasts, sneaking one hand down her body until it reached the waistband of her underwear. He reluctantly abandoned her chest to trail his lips along the flat plane of her stomach, while he artfully dragged her red lace panties down her legs until they pooled with her dress at her feet. He lifted one foot, then the other, and then quickly tossed both dress and underwear out of his way.

He dragged his fingertips slowly back up her legs, trailing feather light touch against her inner thighs, teasing her higher and higher until finally he brushed against her, noting the evidence of her arousal with pleasure and satisfaction.

Although his own arousal was almost painful, he stood and guided her toward the kitchen table. Her eyes darkened and her pupils dilated, she did not question his direction when he pulled out the nearest chair and motioned for her to sit down before he knelt in front of her, settling down in between her legs.

As he leaned in, he trailed one lone finger against her before his hands found her hips, situating her on the edge of the chair. He breathed against her, teasing her and reveling in the scent that was heady and intoxicating and uniquely Lisbon. Her low growl of impatience, predictable to the second (he knew her _that_ well), thrilled him all the more.

"Patience," he murmured wisely, and his only response was another growl that turned quickly into a deep moan as he finally thrust his tongue inside her. He worked her relentlessly, changing pace and alternating thrusts and flicks of his tongue until her legs tightened around him and her moans grew more intense. With one finger, he circled her clit and that was all it took for her to cry out in release.

Her head lolled back and her eyes closed in ecstasy, and Jane rose quickly from the floor to support her. He always loved watching her in her release, and was content to hold her until her eyelids fluttered lazily open once again.

Still panting heavily, Lisbon rose from the chair and arched her back, stretching enticingly as he became painfully aware of his own arousal once more. With her hair tousled and her pupils wide and dilated, even the barest look became sultry, not that she ever had to try with him. It seemed to come naturally now, so much so that he never knew why he didn't notice it before. (He supposed that he hadn't been ready yet.)

His heart constricted with the weight of things he wanted to tell her, things she still wasn't quite ready to hear. Soon, though. He would tell her soon.

"We should probably head upstairs," she murmured, running her hand along his chest. "You're not as young as you used to be, after all."

Jane leaned in to capture her lips. "I don't know what you're talking about, woman," he said, ignoring the gentle ache in his knees as her body settled comfortably against him. "There's nothing wrong with right here. You have a perfectly lovely kitchen. It's never stopped us before."

She laughed, the sound low and throaty, which only made him feel impossibly more aroused.

"Alright fine," she admitted sheepishly, rotating her neck in a way that had nothing to do with the kitchen chair and everything to do with the way she always leaned over her desk finishing triplicate forms at the office. He'll have to surprise her with a massage later.

"_I'm _not as young as I used to be, then."

His only response was a smirk.

"You don't look a day older than when I met you," he teased.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't you start," she replied easily. "I'm still angry, you know."

"I do know," he answered back with a laugh. "I expected nothing less."

And before she had a chance to argue, he kissed her soundly on the lips and started maneuvering her towards the stairs.

They managed to make it as far as her living room couch.

(Judging by her response, she had no complaints.)


End file.
